Lycanthrope
by Solar07
Summary: While on a hunting trip, Merlin is attacked by a fearsome beast. But it will take more than disinfectant and bandages to heal these wounds. Arthur now has to choose between Camelot and Merlin. Set btwn S3 and S4. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Sooo... Hello everyone! Right now, I am primarily focused on my other story 'Origin', but this came up suddenly and I just had to write it. But it won't be updated any time soon unless I get swamped with reviews and/or I randomly decide to type up the next chapter. **

**Therefore, this is primarily a teaser if you will. Not exactly a prologue. Once I completely finish 'Origin' this story will have my full attention. **

**Alrighty then! Here ya go, and ENJOY! XD**

Merlin ran as hard as he could. He dodged branches still damp with evening dew, and jumped over fallen trees that teemed with life subtly hidden under dead bark. Overhead the full moon hung lazily in a mist, casting dim light on the lands below and allowing Merlin to see the way clearer so he didn't fall. His rucksack swung wildly on his shoulder, as though reaching back lamely for the forgotten firewood that Merlin had dropped.

Sweat began to gleam on his forehead, and his lungs tightened from exhaustion from running so long, but Merlin didn't care. He had to get back to the knights.

Behind him, the predator continued to race through the foliage, forcing its way through thorn-bushes and vines that Merlin had to dodge. The creature was big, almost twice as tall as Merlin, and its yellow and black teeth were stained with blood from an earlier meal that night. Wily legs pushed on effortlessly, it was having fun with the chase, not knowing that its prey had an actual destination other than away from its jaws. Merlin hoped that it played the game long enough for him to get to the campsite. At last he saw the glows of a fire and heard the rowdy conversations of the knights ahead. Thank the gods!

"Arthur! Gwaine! Elyan!" He shouted, bursting into the campsite waving his arms frantically. They all stared at him with open mouths, probably wondering why he didn't have any firewood.

"Merlin! What're you-?" Arthur started.

"Something's out there! A-A ..." Merlin struggled to describe the beast. "A … thing!"

"A _thing_?"

"Big... Claws... Teeth-Not friendly!" Merlin clarified.

"Where?"At least Arthur knew when and when not to tease Merlin.

Merlin's eyes widened, and he looked towards the trees where he'd come from. The other knights unsheathed their swords looking in the same direction. Leon grabbed for a spear, while Percival settled for a crossbow. They all stood together in a circle, looking every which way for the beast.

Nothing stirred but the wind, and one owl thatasked for the identity of no one in particular. A minute went by, and still nothing. Arthur looked at Merlin, his face saying _"Well?"_

"It was there..." Merlin said lamely. "There was _definitely _something there!"

"It's alright, Merlin, I'm sure all of us have moments when we're afraid of the dark." Arthur rolled his eyes condescendingly, back to his teasing self.

"It was there! I'm telling you! It was coming after me... it... must have been scared off when it saw all of you there."

Gwaine looked up at that. "Are you saying we're frightening?"

"Whatever it was, its not here now." Leon said.

"Percival? Gwaine? Would _you_ mind going out and finding us some firewood?" Arthur asked in a thinly veiled jibe at his manservant.

"I can go back." Merlin protested. He didn't want hs friends to be injured by the beast. He stood a better chance with his magic. But Percival and Gwaine were already leaving.

"Don't worry, Merlin. There are still plenty of dishes that need washing!" Arthur said cheerfully dumping a stack of them into Merlin's arms.

Grumbling, Merlin set off for the nearby stream. The others had already dismissed the entire thing and were teasing and laughing with each other again. _Stupid clot-poles..._

He dropped the dishes with a crash on the forest floor, scrubbing angrily at the first bowl filled with remnants of stew. '_Can't anyone listen to me? Just once?', _he thought. It didn't matter if he was a servant, they should have learned by now that he counted for more than that. All but Arthur and Leon were formerly peasants, surely _they _of all people should understand. Especially Lancelot! But Lancelot wasn't here right now, he was back in Camelot taking care of training sessions for the duration of Arthur's hunt. Merlin remembered fondly the fit he threw when Arthur told him to remain behind, but Arthur's fit was stronger so Lancelot gave in. Stupid Arthur. _Dollophead _Arthur.

So engrossed in his raging thoughts, he failed to hear the telltale snapping of a twig, or the blood-lusting growl, he failed to see the red eyes watching him from the trees...

Merlin finished the last dish, and he picked the whole pile up again, walking back to the campsite. That's when he finally heard the growl, the very loud growl coming from his direct left. His heart pounded. Should he warn Arthur? Or should he try and take of this creature himself? Chances were he was going to end up using magic to help Arthur kill it anyway.

A giant, dark-brown paw stepped into the light, and Merlin in spite of himself, called out.

"Arthur!"

"What is it now, _Mer_lin?"

Merlin didn't get the chance to say. Next moment, the huge beast pounced with the speed of lightening, and Merlin was brutally tackled to the ground; the dishes flying out of his grasp.

All he could see was the bloody snout and the creature's red eyes glaring down at him. His arms and torso were pinned under the beast's weight, but he squirmed the best he could anyway. He felt the magic rise up and light his eyes, poised to strike, but it was too late.

The beast's head reared up, opening its jaws snarling, and delved its teeth into Merlin's shoulder. His back arched, and he screamed, almost an inhuman sound, as terrible burning jolts shot all over his body from his shoulder. It felt like a hot poker had been jammed into it, and was being twisted round and round inside his body. Without realizing it, his magic instinctively reacted, forcing the monster to release his hold. It stumbled around, thrashing its head about in pain while blood and steam came out of its mouth, like Merlin's body had suddenly become unbearably hot.

Merlin couldn't see it anymore, and he was in too much pain to care. He couldn't even think about trying to stand, or even crawl, away from the terrible sounds coming from the beast. So he lay there, clutching his shoulder and rocking slightly from side to side. His body was on fire, he couldn't think about anything but the fire. It ripped through his body, inflaming his veins, making his heart beat threes times faster than was healthy. He struggled to breathe, as though his lungs were lined with smoke. Was he burning? Was he on a pyre? But then there wouldn't be grass... Where was he? _Oh, Gods. Please get rid of the fire... _

"Merlin! Merlin! Merlin, come on, open your eyes! Don't thrash, Merlin."

Who was that? His eyes weren't closed, and he wasn't moving... Was he? _Oh, Gods, it burned! _

He gasped when something cool touched his forehead. It was so cool it almost hurt, but it was unthinkably relieving at the same time. He opened his eyes and saw blurry shapes swaying about over his head. All of the colors mixed together, it all looked red. What was happening to him?

"Wha's happn'in t'me?" Did he just say that? Was he the one who had been yelling about the fire, too?

"You're injured, Merlin. I need you to calm down, alright? We need you to stay awake. Merlin?"

Merlin could no longer hear properly. Everything was fading, everything except the fire, which only seemed able to increase in heat and torture.

Time ceased to have meaning. Merlin was terrified he was in the Underworld, condemned to eternal suffering for all the mistakes he'd made. For trying to kill Morgana. For releasing the Great Dragon and being responsible for the hundreds of people it killed. For all the times he had resort to murder to protect the future king. For failing to stay alive and protect Arthur until he became king. He wanted to scream, to cry, to writhe, but he was paralyzed, mute, and blind. All he had was his feeling and thought, so he was forced to endure the flames in total submission. The highest point of intensity rippled back and forth through body. Touching and caressing every pore, every single miniscule part in his being. It never ended.

Suddenly, he felt a wonderfully cold sensation on his face, and he found he found he could move again. He opened his eyes and smiled gleefully at he saw.

The full moon, in all its glory and beauty. It caressed his face with icy hands, filling his ears with silent, silvery song. He wasn't dead. _He wasn't dead._

But he was thirsty... Oh, so very thirsty. He really should have some water now... Right _now. _

He jolted into action, hearing shouts of surprise from all around but he ignored them. He had been lying right by a stream, only he was farther from it than he remembered being. Hardly aware of anything around him, he scrambled like an animal to the water. Not even thinking about it, he dunked his whole head in, swallowing great gulps of heavenly liquid with no intention of ever stopping. The fire was still there, but it didn't burn as badly, now it was like the embers that lay comfortably under the charred wood in a dying fire.

He felt something grab his shoulder, and he whipped around, throwing whatever had been touching him back and snarling. His vision focused suddenly, and he saw Percival lying on his back staring at him like he'd grown another head. Merlin didn't understand the problem until he realized that Percival must have been the one to grab Merlin's shoulder, therefore Merlin must have thrown _Percival_, the biggest man he knew, five feet away from him with sheer strength. Not magical strength, normal _physical _strength. What the hell?

He looked down at himself, surprised to see himself crouched in an animalistic position, and he looked around, noticing his surroundings at last.

All the other knights besides Percival were standing in a group nearer to the campsite, with Arthur at the forefront. They all were staring at him with the same expression of shock and confusion that Percival had. Something bloody and brown caught his eye, and he saw the corpse of the monster that attacked him. A shiver of recognition, and with it his heart palpitated in fear. He seen this before in one of Gaius' books.

It had a body structure similar to a man, only its limbs were far longer, and its back hunched over all the time. The back paws were like that of a wolf, but the front paws had four bendable, clawed fingers covered with sparse fur. Most terrifying was its head, the exact head of a wolf, mouth open in an eternal howl of pain from the spear wound in its gut.

_Lycanthrope... _Merlin thought. Words from the text flashed in front of his vision, inspiring panic. _Often referred to as the werewolf... Part man, part wolf... Venom that can take effect in less than an hour... Taste of human blood... Transformation... _Oh, no.

"Bit me..." Merlin mumbled. He looked at his hands, they were red and shaking, this couldn't be happening. Why to _him_? What did his destiny have to say for itself now?

_Taste of human blood... _No, no, no...

"Get-get from me!" He shouted, getting to his feet.

"What? Merlin, don't move. You need to-"

"No! You can't be here. I can't b-be here!" The heat was starting to consume him again, but he had to get away, he couldn't hurt Arthur. More than that, he couldn't hurt his friend, any of them. He ran away from them all, not caring where he went as long as it was away.

Not more than a few steps and his body burst into flames, and he went down. He gripped the grass with an iron hold, tearing at its roots and gritting his teeth. His body convulsed until he was on all-fours, and still it convulsed. He couldn't think what was happening to him, he was in a state of shock while he felt his body unbiddenly contorting into an unfamiliar form. His eyes were open, but all he could see was a red blur and all he felt was pain.

_CRACK!_

His elbow joints snapped the wrong direction, and a moment later his knees did the same thing. His teeth grew heavier in his mouth. His thumbs wriggled up his wrist, and his big toes wriggled up his ankle. A series of more _cracks _and his back lurched forward, forcing more weight onto his arms. His ears grew larger. His jaw snapped and popped, making room for more teeth and stretching out the skin on his face. His nostrils widened and thickened, growing outward with his mouth. All the while hairs grew longer and thicker all over his body. If Merlin could think of one remark to make about this, it was that it was the very meaning and essence of the word 'uncomfortable'.

The last to go was his mind. Instinct and an inexplicable lust for blood replaced the memories of his family and friends. He forgot the name of his mother, the faces of the knights that surrounded him concerned and afraid right now, the wise words of his one father-figure Gaius, the kindness and pure soul of his friend Gwen. All of it was beaten mercilessly to the depths of his mind, unable to fight back against the unstoppable tidal wave of fire and inhumanity. He even forgot about his destiny. The one thing that would not, could not back down was his magic, because apparently whatever form he took it always went with him. It wasn't part of him, it _was_ him.

But it still couldn't help him right now.

All of the pain was gone now though, like it had never been. Merlin was gone. In his place stood a magnificent wolf black as the night sky, proud and wild. His stomach demanded food, his appetite demanded blood. He looked around sniffing the air and growled with pleasure, mouth watering. Standing all around him looking as dumb as deaf cattle were five scrumptious humans, veins pulsing with blood under weeks of meals of meat. Perfect prey, and so _convenient._

He would kill the one with the abnormal large sum of hair first, he was furthest from the others and therefore an easy target. One of the humans was making sounds, which sounded oddly familiar to the beast, but he was focused on his prey.

It yelled as he leaped for its throat. Suddenly he noticed that it was holding a sharp piece of metal, and was swinging it right at him. He yelped and scrambled away from it, blood dribbling from his stomach. It was a small cut, not worthy of any worry. Now, he was angry.

His face screwed up in a ferocious snarl, hackles raised and tail high.

These puny scraps would regret picking a fight with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, fine then! You all are a bunch of bullies you know that! … I'm just kidding … mostly.**

**I mean, only the first chappy and 10 reviews? I had to give in. But don't get used to it! Duty calls to update Origin first b4 I add chappy 3 to this one. **

**OK. So here we go. Chappy 2. As with Origin I'm going to be switching POVs erratically with no pattern at all. Here we've got some Arthur POV, and more Merlin POV at the end. **

**Seriously, though. Thanks a whole bunch for all the reviews! Hugs, kisses, and cupcakes to everyone! 3**

**ENJOY! XD (bullies … XP)**

**NOTE: OK I lied. Gaius isn't in the chappy, but he's in the next one!**

**I've just discovered POTTERMORE! If you are a Harry Potter fan, be sure to check it out. Its free too!**

** Arthur**

Arthur was dangerously close to going into shock, which was something no one ever did while in battle. But here Arthur thought he could be excused just once due to the circumstances.

His servant, not only a servant, but a friend, had just turned into a wolf and attacked another one of his mates, Gwaine. Merlin _never _did anything to hurt his friends in such a way. Sure, he got angry sometimes, who wouldn't with the way he got treated, but not like this. Whatever had happened to Merlin, he wasn't in his right mind.

He cursed himself mentally. He should have taken Merlin's warning about the so-called _thing _more seriously. Thanks to him, Merlin had been attacked and nearly mauled to death, and Arthur, though he hated himself for it, wished that had been the case. At least then Gaius could have simply cleaned the wound and declared how much rest Merlin needed to get better. This was much worse.

When the knights heard Merlin's scream, they all rushed to the stream. Arthur had never heard Merlin scream like that, and it scared him. What scared him more was the sight of his friend whimpering and bleeding on the forest floor. Arthur had almost rushed to him immediately, but luckily Leon's warning deterred him from running straight into the _thing. _It looked like some sort of crossbreed between a wolf and a man, and it looked ferocious. It staggered around shaking its head back and forth while steam came out of its mouth, not paying attention to anything around it. Arthur didn't have time to wonder at its behavior because Leon threw his spear in a fury, impaling its gut. The beast keeled over and howled one last time, before becoming still.

Now that the way was clear, Arthur ran over to his friend and tried to calm him down, but it was hopeless. Tears streamed down his face, even though his eyes were clenched shut. He thrashed on the ground and kept yelling about the "fire".

_"Please get rid of it! It burns, it hurts! It hurts so much! Help me, please!"_

Tears threatened to fall, but Arthur blinked them back. Tears would not help his friend right now, no matter how much it hurt to see him in so much pain. He needed to be strong for him.

"Merlin! Merlin! Merlin, come on, open your eyes! Don't thrash, Merlin."

It didn't look as though Merlin could hear him, let alone obey. He held his arms down, but it did little to stop Merlin from twisting and kicking. He looked around and yelled angrily at the knights.

"Don't just stand there! Help me!" They all came out of their reveries and came over to try and stop Merlin moving. If he kept it up then the wound in his shoulder would bleed out too quickly to be treated, and he might die from loss of blood.

"What the hell?" Gwaine muttered. He was trying to hold down Merlin's legs, but he resisted with strength far beyond what his spindly body that had less muscle than a new-born squirrel could have. Eventually they got him to stop moving, and Merlin whimpered pitifully, apparently the fight being knocked out of him.

Arthur noticed that his forehead was far more red than normal, so he put his hand on his friend's brow to check if he had a fever. The moment he did, Merlin gasped and his eyes snapped open. He squinted blearily at all the faces around him and softly murmured.

"Wha's happn'in t'me?"

His voice was so low Arthur almost didn't catch it over the thumping of his heart, it almost made him want to give Merlin a hug. But due to his state, and Arthur's self-consciousness of his knights around him, that wasn't such a good idea. "You're injured, Merlin. I need you to calm down, alright? We need you to stay awake. Merlin?"

Merlin's eyes shut and he went completely limp, unconscious.

"Well, that was pointless." Arthur muttered dejectedly.

"What are we going to do?" Elyan asked. "We haven't got the supplies or the means to treat him. And it's too dark to ride for Camelot. Besides, I hate to admit it, but we _do _need to find more game for the feast tomorrow." Tomorrow, a noble from far Camelot was coming to negotiate taxes or land matters, Arthur didn't know, he didn't really care. The others didn't seem to either, and a collective glare at Elyan made him look away, embarrassed.

Arthur pondered the problem for a moment, and in a second came to a decision.

"I'll take him to Camelot. You can all stay and find some food for the feast or you can come in the morning. It's safer if there's only me for now." The knights all nodded in understanding, though not without some resentful looks. They all cared for Merlin as much as he did, some maybe even more.

Elyan ran ahead to prepare Arthur's horse, while Arthur removed Merlin's jacket. He wanted to at least bandage it to stop the bleeding. He wrapped it around Merlin's shoulder tightly, when he was done, Percival offered to carry him to the horse. Percival held Merlin up like he would a baby. The servant looked like a mere child in Percival's arms.

Not a few steps towards the camp Merlin woke up with a very unnerving laugh, so different to the agonizing screams he'd made not five minutes ago. He looked up at the sky with a far-away expression, then he frowned, and jerked wildly. Percival was so surprised he dropped him. Arthur would have shouted at him but Merlin had his every attention. Eyes crazed, he darted back to the stream on all fours and with a splash, submerged his whole head in.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted. No one knew what to do but gape at their friend, wondering if he'd gone mad. Percival, perhaps wanting to atone for dropping the man, went over to him. He approached like he would a startled a horse that wanted to charge. Everyone else watched with bated breath, though Arthur didn't know why.

"Merlin?" Percival asked. When there was no answer, he put a hand on his shoulder to shake him.

Arthur would never forget what happened next.

Merlin snarled. He _snarled. _He whipped his head out of the water and threw Percival's hand off with enough force to send him sprawling on the ground. No one moved, and if Arthur could describe the air in that moment, he would say it smelled of pungent shock. They all viewed their friend as he viewed them, finally taking in what was going on around him. No one even noticed as Elyan came back to join them and stared at the man who was previously lifeless as a doll.

Merlin's eyes landed on the creature that attacked him. His eyes bulged, and his face lighted with recognition, as though he'd made a jump no one else had gotten to.

"Bit me..." He stood up, suddenly, shouting, "Get-get away from me!"

"What?" Leon said. This was the last thing anyone expected. "Merlin, don't move. You need to-"

"No! You can't be here! I can't b-be here!" With that, he ran.

"Merlin!" They yelled, giving chase. They needn't have though. To Arthur's horror, Merlin collapsed and began convulsing on the ground. What happened in the next few seconds was something that Arthur would have nightmares about.

It reminded him of the Druid girl that had transformed into a bastet about a year ago. Then, he had only felt mild terror and disgust, and he'd slain the creature. Now that terror and disgust was mixed with the terrible knowledge that this was his friend, not some unknown person who he could distance himself from. He had made an unspoken promise to himself to protect Merlin, he didn't want to lose him like he lost Morgana and his father.

Now, here he was, holding a sword against the best, most loyal and true friend he ever had. And there he was, with the body of a vicious wolf, red eyes gleaming for his blood. He knew he could never hurt Merlin, but now he might not have a choice. Years of studying strategy and fighting did little to help him get Merlin back, but maybe he could find a way to beat him without killing him.

Reasoning was out of the question. But he didn't really have any other better ideas right now.

"Merlin!" The wolf prowled closer to him, eying his throat. "Merlin, I know you're in there somewhere! You have to fight it, Merlin. You are the least monstrous person I know. You never would harm anyone!"

Merlin, or what used to be Merlin, seemed to consider him, and Arthur decided to take this as a good sign.

"You are one my closest friends, Merlin. You know that? You... You're..."

"If you're going to say something say it, Princess!" Gwaine said. He looked extremely guilty for cutting Merlin, even though it was a knee-jerk reaction. Merlin glanced over at him, and if wolves were human enough to look confused, Merlin did. Perhaps he was remembering something? Arthur's hopes were shot down as Merlin went in for the attack again. This time for him!

He knew he should raise his sword, to stab the beast through, but Arthur couldn't let himself forget that this beast wasn't entirely a beast, but also a friend.

He was wrong though. Merlin jumped over his head and slammed into something he couldn't see.

"Bloody hell! But-But that was _dead!_"

Arthur turned around, and gaped wordlessly.

The monster that Leon had had speared was back on its feet, fighting tooth and nail against Merlin. Arthur couldn't think. It had _died. It had bloody died! _He saw its eyes go dark, and he saw its chest cease to move. Hell, he'd seen it run through with a bloody spear!

Merlin was far smaller than his opponent, but he just as strong. He ripped and teared at the monster's throat, all four legs scratching its torso. The monster howled angrily, and used its arms to grab and throw Merlin off its back.

Merlin landed and crashed into a tree. Arthur's heart pumped with fear until he got up, shook himself, and went to meet the monster again.

None of the men made a move to help either party, they were all transfixed by the bloody, animalistic horror of the fight. Arthur just couldn't look away for fear for Merlin's safety, and even if it wasn't Merlin fighting, he still wouldn't be able to avert his eyes from the graceful horror that raged in front of him.

It ended with the worst of blows.

Merlin, positioned righted under the monster's chin, reared up on his hind legs, reaching for its throat. His wolf jaws clamped shut with a sickening _CRUNCH_, and there was silence for a moment, the silence that is made just after a life is taken. The monster fell, and Merlin let go of its throat with a contemptuous huff.

Arthur didn't know how he kept thinking of this wolf as _Merlin_, his lanky servant with the goofy grin and the big ears. Who always talked of violence with a sour look on his face, even when it came to hunting rabbits. Who was always by his side ready to do any chore, any mission, any request Arthur had, no matter what. Who pulled him through his darkest moments. Who remained the steady hand to hold (though they _never _held hands) when it seemed everyone else abandoned him. Who made up names like _'dollop-head' _and _'clot-pole' _because (Arthur assumed) he was too innocent and naturally friendly to use actual language.

Arthur just stood there in shock, he had succumbed to it now, not registering the fact that his friend-turned-wolf was leaping at his throat.

The breath flew out of him, and he was on the ground, under the great paws of a wolf with terrible breath. Wildly, he thought about asking Merlin what he'd been eating.

He got a view of the inside of his mouth, about twenty sharp, bloodstained white teeth framing a red throat that descended into his stomach, before the weight was roughly torn away.

Sitting up, he saw Percival wrestling with the animal, trying to get his hands around its mouth to clamp it shut. Merlin fought, and he fought hard. In no time the knight's uncovered arms were now covered in painful scratches.

"A little help here!" He yelled. Leon ran forward to oblige, and so did Gwaine and Arthur. Now, they barely had him pinned, but at least he was subdued for a while.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" Arthur yelled after Elyan, who was running off to the camp. The knight ignored him and disappeared into the trees.

"He's run away!" Gwaine said, with something between a smile and a grimace. He was holding down Merlin's head, trying to avoid the apparently venomous teeth. For that's what Arthur decided. That wolf-man thing's bite had done this to Merlin. Though it and Merlin looked nothing alike, even now. Merlin was a wolf (tail and all), he didn't have any human aspects at all like the one that attacked him, except maybe he was bigger than most wolves.

"Here!" Elyan came back, holding something in his hands. "We can use this."

It was a rope.

"You mean we should tie him up?" Gwaine asked, looking disgusted with the idea.

"Its the best choice we've got." Arthur said grimly.

Elyan squeezed in next to Gwaine, and took hold of Merlin's still snarling head, giving Gwaine the rope. Moving surprisingly deftly for someone known to be a drunk, Gwaine quickly wrapped the rope around Merlin's mouth four times and to make it fool-proof, made a knot. Then he tied it like a leash around Merlin's neck. Letting out a sigh of relief, they all got up, releasing Merlin from their hold. He bolted, only to be yanked back by Gwaine's firm grip on the leash, snarling so loudly all the people of Camelot must have heard it.

"Alright, now what?" Gwaine asked, flipping his hair annoyingly when turning to look at Arthur.

"We need to keep him tied up, until... until he changes back."

"How do you know he'll change back, Sire?" Leon asked.

Arthur faltered. "He will." Not even he looked reassured at that. He had no idea how Merlin would change back. They would just have to wait to see what the dawn would bring.

**Merlin **

He woke up feeling cold, very cold, and Gods did his head hurt! He barely remembered any of what happened yesterday. He knew that he had been on a hunt with the knights, they needed to stock up on meat for a feast the following day... Today? Dusk had fallen, and he'd gone into the forest to get firewood, and then … A … _thing_? A thing with teeth...

He tried to move, and he felt something rub against his neck. He opened his mouth, and found it covered with the same thing. His eyes shot open in panic, and he tore at the rope covering his mouth. Where was he? Why was he tied up? Had he been captured? And-

"Oh, Merlin! You're back! And … oh … Er, Princess?"

That was Gwaine's voice. So, he wasn't captured. Or maybe he'd escaped back to here, and passed out before he got the rope off?

"_Gwfff!" _Translation: _Gwaine, what the hell happened and untie me now!_

When he moved his tongue, he discovered something that tasted disgusting was all over the inside of his mouth. Some of it was crusted on his teeth, and Merlin wondered if he'd been forced to drink sewer water. At that his stomach threatened to puke, but he pushed it back down, not wanting to know the consequences of throwing up while being gagged.

The face of Prince Arthur came into view. Why was he blushing? He held up his red knight's cloak and quickly draped it over Merlin's body, before kneeling down and untying the rope. Merlin had a traitorous inkling as to Arthur's behavior and looked down at himself as soon as he was free from the rope. His own face flushed too.

Besides Arthur's cloak, he was utterly naked. Unclothed. Exposed. Nude. Without a stitch.

Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly, and Merlin slowly looked up at him, wondering if he had ever felt more embarrassed in his life. Over Arthur's shoulder, he saw the knights staring too. Great, now he felt more embarrassed.

"Erm … What do you remember?" Apparently Arthur had decided to ignore the embarrassing situation, which Merlin was grateful for. He thought for a bit.

"Hunting." He answered. "We were on a hunting trip for Lord Delmar's feast. And I was... getting firewood for the camp. Then..." He tried to remember, but he just couldn't. Nothing of what he knew explained the bad taste in his mouth, or why he was... dressed in an unorthodox fashion, or why he had been tied up. He looked at Arthur.

"That's it?" Arthur asked. He looked disbelieving, and disturbed by something.

"That's it." Merlin confirmed. "So... what did happen?"He tried to sit up, and he grunted in pain as his shoulder protested. Arthur pushed him back down.

"I think we should wait until we back to Camelot." He said.

"Camelot?"

Merlin and Arthur looked at Leon. "You're still taking him to Camelot? With all those people?"

Merlin frowned at him. Why would the people be a problem?

"Yes, Leon. He still needs to see Gaius." Arthur answered stonily.

"But Sire, he's-"

"That's _my _decision, Leon."

Arthur was glaring heatedly at the senior knight, who nodded and backed down, knowing a lost fight when he saw one. Merlin was now confused, shocked, and nauseous for some reason. What was going on?

Elyan gave some of his extra clothes. With some help, Merlin managed to get the shirt on over his shoulder, which seemed to be hurt badly. Merlin wondered why it wasn't bandaged. Once the knights had all turned away (Gwaine struggling not to giggle much to everyone's annoyance), Merlin got his trousers on.

He had to be supported by Arthur to get to the horse; his shoulder was really starting to annoy him; _and _he had to ride with Arthur because he couldn't keep himself in the saddle. This day was getting worse and worse by the second.

His stomach churned, and his face started to turn gray, but he still asked questions the entire time, and the knights still remained elusive the entire time. Whatever had happened to him was either so horrific that they didn't want to tell him for fear of scaring him, or this was all just some big immature joke they were playing on him, either way Merlin was mad at them. His shoulder was really starting to hurt now, and his stomach was worse then ever.

They had almost made it to the horse when Merlin collapsed on his hands and knees, heaving. Distantly, he heard the sound of metal scraping against metal, and he wondered why the knights were drawing their swords. He felt Arthur's hand resting on his back, and he couldn't help but take comfort from the brotherly gesture so often withheld from him.

"Merlin, can you hear me?"

Why wouldn't he be able to hear him? He stupidly opened his mouth to tell him so and his nausea took advantage. Something vile rose up his throat and he coughed, helplessly being forced to expel whatever his stomach had ingested in front of Arthur.

Arthur gasped, but Merlin didn't dare look at him in case he threw up on him. Panting from exhaustion once he was done, he opened his eyes and cringed.

"What the hell is that?" He whispered to Arthur. He felt so disoriented, which he felt justified in since he apparently had amnesia, nausea, and a badly wounded shoulder; now he was looking at the red liquid that had come out of his mouth, trying not to vomit again. It was blood, he knew it was. He just wanted Arthur to deny it. Arthur didn't say anything, but he looked frightened, which Merlin took as confirmation.

Questions floated like dead lizards in a bog around his head, questions he felt he should know the answer to, yet was clueless, questions that everyone was refusing to answer, and it was driving Merlin crazy.

What was happening to him? He didn't need to live with a physician to know that vomiting blood wasn't a good sign, neither was amnesia. He needed answers. Answers. Answers. Answers.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and attempted to get up. The world immediately started spinning, fading. No! He needed to stay awake. He needed to know what was going on! But nature wouldn't cooperate, and within a few seconds he was captured in the iron shackles of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Gaius**

Gaius had been working for exactly four hours that day, when Arthur barged in carrying his unconscious ward with a shoulder wound, and began explaining something so quickly that Gaius' tired ears had to ask for repetition several times. Arthur was truly panicked and frightened by something, but was trying not to show it. But he couldn't fool Gaius. A fourth of the way through the story the physician felt like prescribing himself a sleeping draft to escape the pain of knowing that the boy who had become a son to him was now in such a terrible predicament. Halfway through, Lancelot burst in, followed by Gwaine and Guinevere. A few other knights tried to come in too but Gaius all but threw them out the door; he was stressed enough as it was without them all crowding him and asking questions too.

Merlin had been lain on the patient's bed, looking peaky and restless. Gwen sat down next to him, her forehead creased and her eyes dark with worry while she cleaned a wound on his shoulder and another across his chest. Lancelot looked as though he wanted to be close to Merlin as well, but was wary of being near Gwen, so he stood with Arthur, listening to the explanation. Gwaine just paced about the room with a conflicted expression on his face. When Arthur was done, silence ruled the room, it was filled with disbelief mostly, and fear. Gwen was the first to speak.

"But... But _how?_" She whispered loudly. "Merlin just- he isn't-he _couldn't_ have..."

"I know Guinevere, I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't seen it." Arthur said.

_"Uggggh..." _Merlin said, stirring. Everyone stared at him, but he made no other signs of waking up, and they slowly looked at Gaius. He braced himself, he would need to pull himself together and explain to them what exactly was going on. As a physician, he had a responsibility to ignore his own emotions and do all he could with a clear head.

"Gaius? What do you make of all this?" Arthur asked slowly. Gaius closed his eyes and sighed.

"From your description... I... am afraid to say that Merlin was bitten by a _lycanthrope._" He forced out.

"A... _lie-can-thrope?_" The Regent repeated. Gaius elaborated.

"The lycanthrope is a vicious crossbreed of a man, and a wolf. Here, I have a book somewhere..." He shuffled through the shelves of endless, unkempt literature, searching for the book on magical creatures which held the griffin, the goblin, the bastet, and the afanc that had threatened Camelot before. While he searched, the others threw each other worried glances, conversing their fears and speculations in silence. Gaius spotted a sheet of parchment sticking out from the pages of a book and he snatched it off the shelf. He walked over to the others, waiting with expectant looks of trepidation. He began to read.

_'The lycanthrope, more commonly referred to as the werewolf, is a magical creature that is part-man, part-wolf. One night each month, when the full moon is out, lycanthropes will roam the countryside; many are known to attack livestock, but even more have been reported to regularly feast on human flesh during these nights, as they apparently crave the taste of human blood. Lycanthropes, when fully realized, have a fateful venom that can take effect in less than an hour on its victim, who will succumb to the life-long curse along with his attacker, unless the lycanthrope kills its victim before transformation can occur."_

Gaius finished the page, and stared at the illustrations of a man turning into a wolf instead of looking at the people's faces in the room. He tried not to concentrate on the pain the man in the book seemed to be going through lest he replace the face with that of his ward in his mind.

Arthur appeared to be going through an internal struggle. He ignored the faces staring at him, and looked at his friend. He closed his eyes, as though thinking hard, or building up courage.

"You mean to say, that _Merlin_," Lancelot said looking grim and scared, "is a werewolf?"

Gaius tried to swallow the burning in his throat, ashamed that he could even think of crying. But he was scared, so scared. But he was a physician, he had to stay calm. He kept his face callous as possible. "It is... That is, I mean to say... Yes."

Once again, silence permeated the room. Each person there was thinking about one thing, but couldn't seem to find any words to express their thoughts. Gaius didn't know what to do. This book didn't say, but he knew from past experience that lycanthropy was incurable. There was absolutely nothing he could do for Merlin, and that hurt more than anything. Merlin was the son he never had. He, Gaius, was supposed to look after him. He was supposed to be the physician with the panacea, he was supposed to know how to solve these problems. But this one, he knew, was never going to be solved. Merlin would wake soon, and Gaius dreaded the oncoming moment when he would have to tell him that he had no solution. He imagined the way Merlin's face fell, the look of utter hopelessness and sorrow his words would bring. Gaius let another pang of uselessness flow though him. He was supposed to heal, not hurt.

"But, Gaius..." Gaius blinked. Arthur was looking at the illustration of the full lycanthrope on the page. Though it was no more than skillful strokes of a quill, the terror felt when looking at its form was almost as bad as the real thing. It stood on a hill made of ink, behind it rose a full moon, defining the strength, size, and power of the beast it nurtured. Gaius hadn't realized he put the book down, but now Arthur was deeply entranced by it for some reason.

"But, Gaius... Merlin didn't look like that." He pointed at the picture. "He just looked like a wolf, he had a tail and he walked on all fours... God, this is..."

"What?" Gwen said. Arthur looked away from the book with a frustrated look on his face.

"I just still can't believe it. That's all. The Merlin I saw last night... I just can't understand how _Mer_lin and the... thing I saw are the same. I know it's true. I just can't get used to it..."

"I second that." Gwaine said, coming out of his stupor. "But what does it mean? Merlin and the werewolf that attacked him not being the same?"

Gaius spoke up. "_This_ book doesn't hold much information about lycanthropes, but there are hundreds of books on the subject. The authors were usually relatives or sympathizers of lycanthropes, even a few lycanthropes themselves wrote about it. Nearly all of them tried to find a cure to the curse. But as far as I know, no one has made a discovery." Gwaine raised an eyebrow that asked 'And?'

"I have... looked into the subject before, and-"

_"Ugghhhmmmmm." _Merlin tossed in his bed and his eyelids fluttered, his cerulean eyes darted around the room. But he didn't appear to see anything or acknowledge the four other people in the room. Another second passed and suddenly his eyes grew wide and he shot upright with a yell.

Gwen yelped and jumped back, then she lurched forward in the same second, trying to calm Merlin down. Gaius went over to help, while the other knights stood back, watching fearfully but not knowing what they could do. Gaius sat on the edge of his patient's bed, murmuring comforting words and assuring him that everything was alright. What a liar he was. When Merlin finally gained his bearings enough to realize where he was, he looked directly at Arthur and spoke two words Gaius never wanted to hear him say again.

_"Kill me." _

**Merlin**

Merlin was living a nightmare. The moment he'd passed out in the woods, again, he began to relive the terrible things that happened the night before.

He remembered the werewolf, its red eyes and giant fangs. He remembered those fangs piercing his flesh and spreading the cursed venom throughout his body, making him burn. He remembered the way his body had contorted into something that wasn't his, and he vaguely remembered how his mind was dulled so he couldn't think like himself, he couldn't be Merlin.

Then he recalled the blood. The scent of it, the desire for it to wet his tongue that had overwhelmed every instinct in his lupine body, and he remembered when it had filled his mouth as he took hold of the throat of the beast that had cursed him in the first place. He shuddered, also recalling how he had _enjoyed _it. How he had licked the inside of his mouth for the taste and let it slide down his throat... Before he attacked Arthur.

If everything else had been inconsequential, _that _would be the thing that caused his insides to quake with irrefutable guilt and shame. He had tried to kill his _friend. _His future king. The king who was destined to free his people, and bring peace and prosperity to Albion, the king who he was supposed to protect, _and he had tried to kill him. _For blood. For _blood. _He had never felt so unlike himself. He never felt so cursed. Even though all his life, people had told him he was a monster for his magic, some unmeaning to, like Arthur, and some very much sincere, like the village boys from Ealdor. They always said there was something wrong with him, whether because of his absent father, or because they somehow sensed the magic that stuck with him like it did with no else. But it wasn't until now that he fully understood what it meant to be _cursed. _He now understood how Freya had felt, and he now less pitied her than he sympathized. And unbidden pang of grief shot through him and he suddenly had the familiar ache for his lover to come back to him.

But she would never come back. Even though he had seen her, and talked to her through the water from the Lake of Avalon, he knew she could never truly exist in this world. The only way for him to see Freya was to go to her, in Avalon. He realized with confusing joy and sorrow that the time for them to be together would come sooner than he had imagined. He couldn't live like this. He would not allow himself to live when he knew his very existence was a danger to the people around him.

But as he looked pleadingly at the face of the Once and Future King, he knew that his request would not be granted easily. It appeared he would have to fight for his death.

"Merlin, are you insane?" Gwaine spoke first. His face was pale at the statement Merlin had just made. Merlin mentally cringed. For a moment he had forgotten what his demise would do for the people he loved. It would protect them. But it would also hurt them. Lancelot and Arthur wore similar expressions that said _'Absolutely not. I will kill you before I let you die!' _Gwen looked ready to cry. Gaius only looked at him somberly. Merlin gave him a look that conveyed more emotions than even he could understand. But at the same time both he and Gaius knew exactly what was being said. Merlin loved Gaius like a father. He hated what he was doing but he also had to do it. He wanted nothing more than to hold his guardian and never let him go, he wanted him to know why he was doing this. He wanted Gaius to do everything he could to stop him, but he _needed_ Gaius to let him do this without interfering. He was also scared, frightened out of his mind, of what was coming, and he wanted Gaius to comfort him like he would a small child afraid of thunder. This is what he tried to keep hidden, but he knew he failed either way. He blinked away from Gaius and looked back to Arthur.

He felt a slight pang when he realized that he would never see him crowned King. He would never see his friend again for that matter. He saw the sadness, shock, and hurt underneath the mask of anger and disdain for the words Merlin had said. Aside from Gaius and his mother, Arthur would feel the pain of Merlin's death more than anyone. Arthur knew this, and Merlin knew that he would do anything to keep it from happening.

"You have to. Please." Merlin said. His voice shook, but other than that it was without emotion except for resolve.

Arthur straightened, "No." he said fixing him with his commanding prince stare. "I will not."

"Arthur, if I live then all of you will be in danger."

"Do you think I care?"

"You should care! You are the future king, if you die-"

"I won't die! And neither will you!"

"How can you promise that?"

"Because-!" Arthur stopped, face slackening as he appeared to realize he had no idea what to say.

"You can't. As long as I'm alive... You, Gwen... Gaius, _everyone. _Every person in this entire city's lives will be threatened because of me. Arthur, you care about your people more than any king ever did. You can't sacrifice their safety for me."

Arthur gripped the edge of the worktable like a lifeline, staring at an open book and frowning. Merlin glanced at the book and looked away, suppressing a shudder.

"Merlin, please." Merlin looked at Gwen; her eyes were were almost brimming and she reached out and grasped Merlin's hand. "Don't do this. You don't have to. Please..."

"Yes, Merlin. You don't need to sacrifice yourself yet." Lancelot spoke up. He had an oddly calm expression on his face, given the situation.

"Yet?" Gwaine asked angrily, obviously thinking that Merlin shouldn't sacrifice himself at all. Lancelot gave him an annoyed _'Wait till I'm done' _look. Since they had retaken Camelot, the new knights had become a separate group of sorts from the other knights who weren't very open to the idea of "peasant" knights. Lancelot and Gwaine, however, had simply failed to get along as well as they did with the others. Their only common link was Merlin, so they made an effort to be friendly for his sake, but Merlin thought that when he was gone the two liked to avoid each other as much as possible. It wasn't something that made him happy, but he didn't feel like talking to either of them about it. Lancelot continued.

"We don't even know that this curse is permanent. Surely, there must be... some means, to reverse it." He looked at Merlin meaningfully when he said this.

Merlin shook his head, "I, I don't think that there is..." He looked at Gaius, not daring to let any sort of false hope take residence in his mind. His guardian looked at him forlornly, and Merlin took that as confirmation to what he already knew.

"But are you sure?" The knight persisted. Gaius, under the imploring faces of Merlin's friends, sighed and, as though he were preparing to open a door to the angel of death, took a deep breath.

"As I said. Many people have tried to find the cure for lycanthropy, but none have ever succeeded."

Merlin swallowed a lump in his throat, looking at the floor. He already knew what Gaius had said. But hearing it spoken by someone else, especially from someone wise as his guardian, sounded like the final word of a judge deciding his execution date. The only one not affected in this way seemed to be Gwaine.

"Not yet." He said, looking at all of them determinedly. "There's still a possibility of a cure even though no one's found it yet. And-and here, we've got one of the best sources of information in the kingdom." Merlin smiled a little. Who would figure Gwaine knew there even was a library in Camelot? But now wasn't the time for such jibes. _Will there ever be a time again?_

"I doubt our library will have the sort of books we need. My father probably would have had them removed and burned." Arthur said.

"Not... not necessarily, Sire." Gaius said quietly. Merlin looked up. He knew by that tone of voice that Gaius was about to reveal another secret that had something to do with the Great Purge. It was something he never liked doing, it seemed to bring back painful memories and Merlin could understand why well enough. The old man stood, and paced to the other end of the room.

"What do you mean?" Gwen asked.

Gaius turned, and the bubbling potions seemed to quiet in anticipation, before he began to speak.

"When Uther began to cleanse the library of books concerning magic and the unnatural, I knew it was a grave mistake. I knew that in future, we would need the information those books held, but the king would have none of it. Any book that was found to have any spells or the ingredients to magical potions was burned." Gaius' gaze flicked to Merlin's room, and the warlock inwardly grinned. Obviously the old man had kept several books of enchantment like the one he gave Merlin, but that wasn't for Arthur's ears.

"Many books, however, were spared. Partly because I convinced Uther that not all of the books were dangerous and in fact were beneficial to the kingdom. And partly because... I smuggled many others down to the vaults. Back then, I had a fascination for healing of course, and also in particular ailments like lycanthropy. So I salvaged books on that especially."

"And you really did that knowing that the king would have you punished for such a thing?" Gwen asked, astonished. Merlin realized he was probably the only one in the room who knew how much Gaius had disobeyed Uther since the Purge.

"I think we should be grateful he did." Gwaine pointed out, glaring at Arthur slightly, daring him to disagree. Arthur didn't say a word.

"I'm sorry, Sire." Gaius said. Arthur only blinked and shook his head, indicating that he couldn't care less. Merlin was surprised at Arthur's acceptance, probably down to the predicament Merlin was in and the fact that it happened so long ago, but something else was nagging him.

"Gaius,why were you so interested in-in lycanthropy?" Merlin winced over the word. Gaius sighed again.

"When I was a young physician, only a few years into the craft, I worked in a small town close to the city, in Bernicia. One day, a patient came who had been attacked by what I would later learn was a lycanthrope. I became determined to cure him, but nothing I did seemed to work. My patient and I both dreaded the next full moon. When it came, when he turned... It was unbelievable. I was just able to survive the night. After that, I never saw nor heard of him again. Even years afterward, I studied lycanthropy any way that I could in the hopes of making a breakthrough so that what had happened that night would never happen again. But as I said, it is impossible."

"No." Gwaine said. "I won't believe it." Merlin closed is eyes. He knew that Gwaine would be the hardest to convince, but he had to stop them all from going on this path. It was a whim, a desperate lunge that would make no difference in his fate, and it could mean that innocent people would be hurt.

"I'm sorry, Gwaine. But there is no way I am going to go along with this. Even if we had all the books in the world ever written, we wouldn't find anything that could help. I don't want to put anyone in danger, how many times do I have to tell you? The only way to fix this is for me to-"

"No!" Gwen tightened her grip on Merlin's arm, staring fiercely at him. "Don't, please. _Please, _Merlin. Just, don't give up. You've never given up on anything, you can't start now."

"I'm not." Merlin told her, struggling not to let any tears fall. Who was he kidding? There was not a single person in this room that would feel his loss any more than anyone else. But Gwen was different. She was compassionate, strong-willed, and she connected to people of all ranks, ages, and personalities. Merlin had been one of those first few people. He was also certain that Gwen might've fancied him at one point, (a fact he had planned on reminding Arthur of on one of those days when he was being particularly prat-like). He felt a stirring of doubt as he took in Gwen's pleading face, remembering all the good times and the occasional embarrassing situations she always seemed to find him in, like when he'd stolen Morgana's dress for Freya. All the times she helped him save Arthur, including the "Goblin Incident" which both Arthur and Gwen had deemed taboo. Could he really go along with this? Could he be cause this much pain to the people he loved? _Yes. _Merlin thought. This was the lesser of two evils, better for him to die than his friends. Gwen, though she didn't know it, was actually just as essential to his destiny as Arthur. She was Arthur's true love, the future queen of Camelot. Her life was that much more important.

"This isn't giving up, Gwen." He said with new resolve. "This is doing whatever it takes, to keep you safe."

Gwen looked utterly defeated, finally letting go of Merlin and sitting back. He looked at Gaius. Since he had finished his story he hadn't moved, he just stared off into space with one eyebrow arched leagues above the other; the warlock pretended not to notice the way his eyes glimmered more than usual in the daylight. Lancelot was frowning at him, disapproval marked in the creasing of his brow and the downward tilt of his mouth, but he didn't say anything. Even Gwaine looked as though he had been pacified, not happy but not finding any other ways to argue. When Merlin turned to Arthur, he was unreadable.

When the Regent met his gaze, he saw a spark in his eyes. That spark had led Merlin on a dangerous quest against Uther's orders on a bid to rescue Gwen from an outlaw. That spark had led Merlin into wilderen-infested tunnels covered in foul-scented berries. That spark had led Merlin into enemy territory on a quest to find the Cup of Life. That spark had led Merlin into so many dangerous situations he had lost count. Merlin felt no shame at being afraid of what was about to come out of his friend's mouth.

"That's what I want to do too, Merlin." He said quietly, with more honesty and severity than Merlin had heard in a long time. "I want to do whatever _I_ can to keep you safe."

"But what about-?"

"I'm not putting anyone in danger. Not you or anyone else. _You _are one of my people too, Merlin. I won't have you killed in the name of the protection of everyone else, no matter what the circumstances."

"But this is-"

"I know exactly what it is. And I don't care. Merlin, you are my friend. Even if you became a horrifyingly ugly, stinking pig every Tuesday you would still be my friend."

Merlin was speechless, he tried to remember a time when Arthur had called him a friend without having to read between the lines. He couldn't find one, especially not in front of anyone else.

"Besides, the next full moon is a whole month away. That's _weeks _Merlin. We'll find a way to fix this."

Merlin found his tongue again. "That's not enough time, Arthur. Not enough time to read through hundreds of books and piece together a solution from who knows how many theories and calculations and..."

"I think there's a way to remedy that." Lancelot interjected. Everyone looked at him, Merlin with an increasing feeling that whatever he did or said would do absolutely nothing to negotiate what was going on around him.

"Last night, we were able to... you know... contain you without you harming anyone. Well, except for the other werewolf..." Merlin winced. "Anyways, couldn't we do that again when the next full moon comes?"

"There are too many people here." Merlin said.

"We have a dungeon." Lancelot reminded him. "And a good one too. I think it could hold you for one night." He said in a teasing voice. His face became more unsure when Merlin gave him an _'Aren't you forgetting something?' _look.

"That could work. That could definitely work." Arthur said, and Merlin felt all chances of keeping his friends safe slip away. He noted Lancelot no longer looked confident in his plan but everyone else except Merlin and Gaius were more than satisfied by it. They couldn't know how risky this was, sure they knew half of it, but Merlin was sure they would be a lot more worried if they knew he could use magic. As an adult, he had learned to control it, mastering and perfecting it until he was almost as skilled in magic as Gaius was in healing. But if he had that kind of ability as a lycanthrope?

The dungeons wouldn't be enough.


End file.
